


Umbra

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related, Episode: s02e06 Trinity, Episode: s02e08 Conversion, Episode: s02e09 Aurora, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney is lost in the shadow of Arcturus. A Post-Trinity story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Umbra

**Author's Note:**

> Written especially for **mckays_girl** as a big THANK YOU for the wonderful Comic Con gifts.  
>  _Many thanks to **Lynda** and **bernice** for encouragement - and that friendly swift kick up the ass to get me writing/finishing this story!_

[](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/tarlanx/6659521/360320/360320_original.png)

Art created by the wonderfully talented VELOCITYGRASS - click for full size image 

_**UMBRA** is the darkest part of a shadow. From within the umbra, the source of light is completely blocked by the object causing the shadow. (Wikipedia)_

****

"You hear anything?"

Rodney wasn't certain what had called his attention to immediate danger in the forest surrounding him and Beckett, but his sense of paranoia had gone up several notches all of a sudden. He scanned the trees ahead of him even as Beckett said "No," confused by his own edginess. The unnatural sound of cloth fluttering and of something hitting the ground brought him spinning round, gun raised exactly as Sheppard had taught him. He saw only a flash of white and black beyond Beckett and then Beckett was flying through the air leaving no one between Rodney and the Wraith that the others had gone to hunt.

Why hadn't he looked up into the trees? He'd seen enough horror movies to know the life-sucking creatures and psychopaths always hid above eye level, ready to swoop down on the unsuspecting victim. There was even a list of things NOT to do in a horror movie scenario floating around the network on Atlantis, like an unofficial 'how not to get yourself killed in the Pegasus Galaxy' guide.

He fired, the second shot going wild as the Wraith slapped away his gun and Rodney lost his footing as he twisted with the blow, crashing down backwards into the undergrowth, gun flying off in another direction. He scrabbled backwards in the dirt as the Wraith loomed over him, feeding hand drawing back, ready to strike. He thought he was a dead man and expected to see his life flashing in front of his eyes for the hundredth time since stepping through the Stargate into Atlantis and, sure enough, the movie played. He had regrets, numerous of them. He regretted not contacting Jeannie when he was back on Earth, regretted that he would never give the Nobel Prize acceptance speech that he'd practiced in front of a mirror for most of his academic life but, mostly he regretted having had too little time to win back John's trust after the disaster of Arcturus.

A blur of white and blue left him momentarily confused until his would-be savior turned her hungry, inhuman eyes upon him, stalking forward even as he backed away in fear, having regained his feet. He'd just seen the creature snap the Wraith's neck like it was a dry twig so he knew he stood no chance against her, his mouth running desperately as he tried to reason with the now mindless creature that had once been Ellia. The sharp retort of a hand gun had both him and the creature flinching. She turned away, screeching at Beckett before running off, leaving both of them relatively unharmed with the dead Wraith almost at their feet.

He was alive! His hand pawed against his chest as he realized how close he had come to having the life sucked out of him - and not in a good way either - at least, not in the way he had wanted from John for so long now.

He stumbled along after Beckett as they heard a cry of pain in the distance, leaving the dead Wraith behind them. It seemed as if everyone converged upon the same spot where Zaddik lay dying, and so many questions were asked and answered in such a short time. All except the one question he had wanted to read in John's eyes, the one that asked if he was okay, the one that showed that John still cared, even if it was just for a team mate. John's gaze glanced over him, focusing on Beckett instead and Rodney felt another slice through his heart at John's seeming indifference.

All the looks bordering on disdain came back to haunt him; all the put downs and the barely concealed sneers as John started to treat him like a liability to the team rather than an asset since Arcturus. It had come to the point where he was surprised John had even bothered calling him to the team mission briefing for the return to this world with Beckett.

The next few days passed in a blur as John slowly transformed into the very creature he had hated almost as much as the Wraith since their early days on the expedition. His skin had taken on the blue carapace of the Iratus bug, his eyes losing their chameleon quality and gaining a slitted, Wraith-like coloring and shape. Half of his handsome face was lost beneath the blue chitin and mutating cells and his mind quickly succumbed to the instincts of the insect-like Wraith bug. It hurt Rodney to watch the transformation from a distance because John refused to allow him close. His quarters were shut tight against Rodney with orders to the guards not to allow anyone access except for Elizabeth and medical personnel. Rodney had tried to bluff his way in once but John had snarled at him to get out and stay out. Instead, he had seen John only in the infirmary, sedated and yet inhumanly aware of everything around him, and those eyes had focused on him as if he was a juicy bug being eyed by a praying mantis. There was little left of the John Sheppard that he knew and, yes, loved.

Beckett offered them one last chance to save John, using the very thing he had become as his shield against the Iratus bugs infesting the dark cave. If John failed to extract the Iratus embryos, or if Beckett failed to make the cure for the retrovirus using them, then John would be lost to him forever. He knew Ronon had already made John a promise not to let him live like that, to end it before he became an experiment in someone's laboratory. Rodney knew Ronon would keep that promise even if it meant him having to leave Atlantis, though Rodney would ensure it never came to that.

As John walked passed him in the gate room without an acknowledgment, mostly hidden beneath the thick Athosian cloak, Rodney's heart finally tore in half, knowing that this might be the last time John was lucid and yet seeing no softening in his eyes towards him. If John could not find it within him to forgive Rodney during what might be the last lucid moments of his life, then all hope was lost. Their friendship was irreparable and Rodney trudged behind the party and through the Stargate with a broken heart, head lowered in despair and final resignation. He had done his best with what little time afforded them since Arcturus and now he realized that it had not been enough, and never would be.

He stuck with the team while they waited for news from Beckett and then he hung around a little longer in the Infirmary with Ronon and Teyla until he realized there was little point in any of them waiting. Beckett had already told them that it would be a day or two before they saw any visible sign of the mutation reversing itself and John had already made it perfectly clear that he didn't want Rodney hanging around anyway. With a sigh, he pushed up from the seat he'd taken and pointed to the door.

"There's little point...I'm going back to the lab."

He ignored the small frown between Teyla's eyebrows and walked away, wondering if she understood that this was the last time they would stand as a team. It was time for him to go back to where he belonged and let someone John could trust and respect back him up as the team scientist. As he walked along the corridor towards his lab, he made a mental list of those he thought competent enough to take his place.

He froze on the threshold; Zelenka was in Rodney's lab, hands flying across his laptop, and Rodney pushed down the hurt at knowing his deputy was only following Elizabeth's orders and double-checking Rodney's work following Arcturus. He grimaced as he wondered how long it would be before she asked him to step down as Chief Scientist altogether and gave the post to Zelenka. Or maybe she'd already contacted the SGC and ask for a fresh replacement, though the only other scientist of his caliber was Carter and he doubted she would take the job. However, if that did happen then he wouldn't make a fuss even if he was still the best chance they had at keeping Atlantis up and running, but he doubted he could stay despite the fact that he deserved to have Zelenka lording over him after his venomous words during the Arcturus fiasco. He had to hold onto what shred of dignity remained and hope they would at least allow him to remain on the Stargate project even if that meant a dusty laboratory in Area 51. He couldn't cope with another exile to some godforsaken research lab in Russia, China or some inhospitable planet in the Milky Way where few understood a word of English and even fewer understood him and his work. He frowned. Maybe they'd send him to work with Jonas Quinn on the Naquadria. At least Quinn had understood both him and English.

He pulled back his thoughts, aware that he was jumping too far ahead of himself and events.

"Rodney?"

Rodney gave himself a small mental shake and huffed in self-deprecation. "I'll come back when you've finished..." He pointed along the corridor.

"It is not like...Rodney?"

He walked away swiftly, not wanting to deal with his work being torn apart right now, or having to explain why those theories committed to his laptop's hard drive were full of holes because they were still evolving. He just hoped Zelenka didn't simply delete all of his work out of hand though Rodney knew his memory had retained more than enough to rebuild those theories once he returned to Earth. Perhaps they'd let him return to the Antarctica outpost so he could continue his study of the ZPM and Ancient technology there if he had to give up Atlantis.

He found himself alone on the balcony just along from the Mess Hall, sliding down the wall to sit with his back against it, coffee mug cradled in cold hands. It seemed that even the cooks were against him today with only items that he could not, or would not eat sitting on the shelves. Even the potential solace in a piece of cake was denied to him as he recalled the solitary piece of lemon sponge sitting on the pudding shelf. Admittedly, this was the worst time of day for trying to get anything to eat, with the lunch rush over a few hours ago and the cooks busy preparing the evening meals. Still, it summed up how he felt, and he almost gave into the temptation to put that sorry piece of lemon sponge to good use and save everyone the embarrassment of having to tell him he was no longer wanted. It would almost be worth it just to imagine the look of annoyance crossing Beckett's face when the emergency call went out to the Infirmary, except Beckett was busy saving John, and Rodney would not hinder that process even to save his own life.

He sipped at the coffee, hissing when it burned his tongue, and then stared across the sea as the sky slowly darkened with falling night. No one disturbed him, no one called him up on his radio with inane requests for his assistance, and no one asked for his whereabouts. As the stars came out in the darkening sky, he realized that he had never felt so alone in his life before this.

***

When he returned to his lab an hour later, it was quiet. He booted up his laptop and scanned the directory, trying to recall if there was anything missing, but everything seemed in order. Even the last accessed dates revealed no intrusion so if Rodney had not caught Zelenka on his laptop then he might never have known. He sighed as he read quickly through some of his latest theories, finding nothing changed, quickly backing it all up to a small but powerful flash dive. He slipped the drive into his pocket. Desperately, he wanted to believe in Zelenka but the man was almost as good as him, so hiding his tracks would not be too great an accomplishment for the Czech scientist.

Aware that there was very little he could do about the situation, he pushed aside his concerns, determined to get on with his work in the hope that he might at least be able to redeem himself in the eyes of his fellow scientists. He turned his attention to the systems that were causing the greatest annoyance to the new inhabitants of Atlantis, even if the priority of those problems was the lowest, feeling desperate to please someone, anyone. Hours passed by slowly, his eyes gritty from staring into the monitor for so long, and still no one had called. It was hard to believe that a few weeks ago he would have been cursing the number of interruptions, usually from scientists who ought to know better. Now, none of them trusted him because he was no longer infallible, no longer the 'superman' among them. Now they questioned his work, his advice, his theories and his instincts. Now they queried his knowledge of Ancient technology and whispered behind their hands whenever he entered a busy laboratory. He'd tried to ignore it, tried to make it 'business as usual' but either his words had lost their edge or they had fallen upon people who no longer cared what he had to say.

He and Zelenka had exchanged only a few words since Arcturus, with Radek barely acknowledging his apology. Zelenka had a right to be angry but Rodney could not understand the attitude of the rest of them. He could not understand why he was being singled out for the death of Collins, as if he had personally taken a gun and shot the man. At the time, all of them had been involved in trying to reconstruct the weapon, working as a team; Zelenka, Simpson, Miko and, yes, even Collins had contributed to the data held within the Ancient laboratory on Doranda. Though he had to accept formal responsibility for the life and death of every scientist under his control, it didn't make him personally liable. It was an accident that none of them had foreseen.

If John had died during that frantic escape from the Ancient outpost, or if anyone on the Daedalus had been injured during that flight to safety then, yes, he would have been personally responsible because he was the one who had refused to back down against the better judgment of others. He was the one who had become so wrapped up in the idea of an almost limitless source of energy, the power of 25 ZPMs, that he had destroyed most of a solar system. He'd had his mind fixed more on the prize and accolades than on the scientific facts towards the end, but he had not been alone in his eagerness at the time of Collins' death. Every single one of the scientists on the project had been on his side, and even Caldwell had pushed them onwards towards what had seemed a far greater goal; a weapon powerful enough to defeat the Wraith and save countless billions of lives in both Pegasus and the Milky Way.

Only Caldwell still treated him no differently than before and Rodney never thought the day would come when the commander of the _Daedalus_ understood him better than his own people. He snorted softly. Maybe he should ask Caldwell for a job and spend the rest of his career traveling between the stars and galaxies, arguing with Hermiod, except he doubted he would be able to pursue his research on board the ship. No, it would still be better to pursue a land-based position; one where he would not have the responsibility for others hanging around his neck like a millstone.

"You're not supposed to be in here this late, sir."

Rodney straightened with a "Huh?" and turned to face the soldier.

"You have to leave."

"I'm sorry?"

"I have my orders that you are not allowed to work in the labs after midnight." The unspoken word--unsupervised--hung between them and Rodney felt a rush of embarrassment. He bristled in defense.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, Dr. McKay."

The answer deflated him, taking away any chance that the soldier was mistaking him for one of Rodney's minions. "I...I see." He felt the heat flaming his cheeks again and, drawing his tattered dignity around him like a cloak, he picked up his laptop and started for the door but the soldier barred the way.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the laptop has to remain in here."

"What? But...but this is... You have no right to stop me taking--"

"Put the laptop back on the bench, sir." The soldier's face had hardened, muscles tensing, with his voice clipped and brooking no argument.

Swallowing hard around the indignity of being ordered out of his own laboratory, Rodney replaced the laptop and walked away, head held high, unwilling to show this soldier how much it had hurt. The man stepped aside this time and Rodney could feel the soldier's eyes burning a hole into his back for the length of the corridor. As he turned the corner, he sagged against the wall, unconsciously fingering the small flash drive in his pocket that held his current life's work, aware that they could take it from him should he leave Atlantis.

Although he could recall much of what was on this small drive, it would take months to piece it all back together, to rewrite all the equations and redesign the interfaces and schematics. In the meantime, his theories and his work would be handed off to someone else, giving another scientist the kick start needed to prove his theories and complete his work. If he left Atlantis then he would lose everything he had been working towards before Arcturus destroyed more than just a solar system.

As always, that reminded him of John, and he gave a ragged sigh, fingers trailing over the corridor wall, feeling the warmth emanating from the city and that slight tingle beneath his fingertips as the city reacted to the ATA gene. For all his thoughts of continuing his work on the Daedalus, with Jonas Quinn on Langara, at Area51 and even on some backwater planet at the ass-end of the Milky Way, he didn't want to leave Atlantis--and he didn't want to leave John. He could handle demotion, even the loss of his projects, but the thought of never seeing John again was worse than anything else they could possibly throw at him. He knew staying would only set him up for pain and misery but maybe in time, he might be able to restore even a little of their former friendship. He was willing to give up everything just to have that chance. However, the choice was not necessarily his to make.

He pushed away from the wall and kept walking, thoughts rolling through his head. Perhaps if he offered to step down as Chief Scientist then Elizabeth would let him stay on Atlantis. Dignity was highly overrated anyway, and working under Zelenka wouldn't be so bad if he could keep his current projects. He wanted to remain a vital part of the scientific push for advancement rather than living on the same scraps handed out by the SGC to the majority of Earth's scientists, who had been left in ignorance of the Stargate and the worlds just a step away.

First, though, he had to prove to everyone that he would take his scientific work seriously and for the greater good rather than for personal gain. He would resign from Sheppard's team and sort out a list of replacements with the right skills and potential. Collins would have been a good choice, he thought bitterly, but there were other scientists who weren't too stupid.

With renewed purpose, he returned to his quarters and pulled out the spare laptop stowed away for emergencies. Hours later, he hit the send key, his gut clenching as he severed one more tie to the people he had started to regard as 'family' before the events of Arcturus.

****

"Dr. McKay?" Rodney ignored the soft voice and kept walking, pretending not to hear her, only to halt when Teyla grasped his arm. "Rodney?"

"Uh, Teyla. I never heard..."

Her eyebrows lifted and Rodney sighed. He'd never enjoyed lying at the best of times, which was probably why he was so bad at it, and he hated trying to lie to Teyla especially. Instead he had tried an avoidance tactic for the last two weeks, making certain there was no opportunity for their paths to cross so he could dodge this particular confrontation. He knew Teyla was the only one who would care. Ronon was too new to the team so Rodney's inclusion meant little to him, and Sheppard... Well, Sheppard was probably lying in the infirmary celebrating not only his return to pure humanity but also congratulating himself on the ease with which he had gotten rid of Rodney off his team.

"Rodney?" She asked again, eying him with concern.

"Yes, yes. What is it? Busy man here."

"You resigned from the team."

"Yes, well, I'm too valuable to waste my superior intellect on farmers and wannabe Nazis."

"And what of the technology of the Ancestors hidden upon those worlds?"

She looked perplexed and Rodney could understand why because he had been the one to insist that his place on the team was of vital importance, providing much needed scientific support. Except he'd probably caused as many problems as he'd solved since the team formed but he'd continued to justify his presence for Sheppard's sake, and for Teyla's. The idea of letting them wander through the Stargate to some unknown, potentially hostile world without him covering their back--in a technical capacity--was abhorrent. However, these last few weeks since Arcturus had proved that most any scientist could fulfill that role. Even Carson could probably do a better job at keeping the natives from turning hostile and watch Sheppard's back, judging by his heroics in saving him from Ellia.

"Anyone with the gene and a modified PDA can track down a ZPM," he replied loftily, but inside he was breaking, hating to admit that he was nothing, just a burden on them all now Sheppard had withdrawn his support and friendship.

He walked away again and, this time, Teyla did not stop him. Instead, he forced his thoughts away from the pain in her dark eyes to the schematics of the environment systems. He believed he knew what was causing the fluctuations in temperature in the new sector they'd opened since the _Daedalus_ started bringing more scientists and military. Once he'd fixed that then maybe he could boost the power from the ZPM to other systems next, or perhaps increase the long range sensors to give an earlier warning of any Wraith in the vicinity.

Elizabeth had barely spoken to him since Arcturus so he had no way to gage her opinion of him. If he continued to prove how useful he could be repairing the city then perhaps she'd let him stay on Atlantis rather than consider sending him back to Earth on the _Daedalus_ on its next run. He was still a little surprised that he had not been on board when it left just over a week ago, his hopes rising fractionally that Elizabeth was giving him a second chance, unless she had planned on holding on to him until a replacement arrived.

***

John twirled the Athosian fighting sticks a few more times before setting them back down on the bench by the window. He took a deep breath and let it out slow, glad that he had managed to make his peace with Teyla. What he had not done, though, was explain why he had kissed her that day because that could have led to awkward questions.

He'd always liked her, always wondered what it would be like to kiss her, and with the retrovirus stealing away his inhibitions, he had acted upon the impulse, tasting her sweet lips as he inhaled the scent of her warm, lightly perspiring skin. It was everything he had imagined, and yet nothing like what he had wanted. There was no buzz of attraction, no fluttering in his belly or tingling in his groin. He might as well have been kissing General Landry for all the lack of desire coursing through his body.

Yet he had felt that flutter of anticipation whenever Rodney came to see him, and it took all of his degrading mental abilities to keep Rodney at a distance, terrified that if the man got too close then he would not be able to resist the hunger building inside him. His fingers had itched to reach out and touch Rodney's pale, soft-looking skin, his lips had tingled with the urge to taste him and he knew that once he started touching Rodney, he would not be able to stop.

Elizabeth had not understood why he had asked for no visitors, especially Rodney, wrongly assuming that the events of Arcturus were still too fresh in his mind but, in truth, he had gotten over that pretty quick once the initial anger had passed. In hindsight, Rodney's only mistake was not listening when Zelenka offered proof that the project was doomed to failure, but then, so many of the scientists bandied words like impossible and inconceivable around Rodney, only to be stunned when he figured out the impossible. This time had been no different but John had forgotten that, statistically, Rodney had to get it wrong some day. At least all the planets in the Doranda system were too hostile to support human life so, unlike Beckett and his Hoffan Wraith virus, no one died other than Collins, and even that was just a tragedy rather than negligence on anyone's part. Hell, he had the blood of countless thousands on his hands after waking all of the Wraith fifty years early.

In contrast, Rodney's screw up was high on an astronomical scale, outdoing even Colonel Carter blowing up a sun but, fortunately, it was low on the cost of human life scale. John's only remaining conflict centered more on self-anger, at allowing things to get that far when he should have reined the man in earlier. He knew Rodney could be obsessive, and he could see how much this particular project meant to him in terms of harnessing the power for the betterment of mankind rather than for the military to use solely as the greatest weapon of mass destruction ever seen. Rodney had been fighting to keep the power source in civilian hands, his eagerness to keep it from the military fueled by Caldwell's keen interest.

These past two weeks had given John plenty of time to think about Arcturus, and Rodney. Perhaps it was time to let go of the anger because he missed his friend. He had not seen him since the day they went to the Iratus nest, and John shuddered as he recalled how Rodney's scent had filled the gate room, his voice singing in John's alien blood, leaving John with no choice but to ignore Rodney completely or lose his mind with lust before he could complete the task set by Beckett.

John was almost certain he had seen Rodney's silhouette hovering just outside once or twice, peeking at him through the stained glass window of the infirmary door. However, John could not blame him for keeping his distance after John's attitude towards him. He just wished he could locate the man now so he could start to make amends but Rodney seemed to have perfected the disappearing act. Zelenka had mentioned Rodney using the team's downtime to catch up on repairs to the city, fixing the environment settings in the new personnel quarters, and activating systems that would provide better security should another Wraith sneak into the city. Elizabeth, however, had been most reticent to talk of Rodney at all. He didn't believe she was still smarting over Rodney's refusal to back down during Arcturus but something was amiss.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

John keyed his radio; talk of the devil, he thought. "Sheppard here. What do you need, Elizabeth?"

"I'd like to see you in my office in five minutes, if that's..."

"Sure. I'll be there."

Perhaps now was the time to find out what was on Elizabeth's mind.

****

"What is this?" John asked, puzzled as he thumbed through the three personnel folders placed in front of him. All three were scientists with various specialisms; a bio-physicist, a linguist, and an anthropologist.

"Rodney made some suggestions and, having looked over his list of seven candidates, these three stood out in particular."

He knew he was frowning but he still didn't get it. What was he supposed to do with these people?

"Your team is still on downtime until Carson says you're ready so I thought you might like to spend the next week or two getting to know Doctors Alnita, Ferguson and Dhandra."

"Any particular reason?"

The slightest pink flushed against Elizabeth's cheeks, something he rarely saw because she was the consummate diplomat, not allowing much to dent, let alone shatter, her calm and neutral exterior.

"As Rodney's replacement."

John slammed down the folders and shoved back in his chair. "Like hell!"

She held out her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "This was Rodney's choice, and under the circumstances, I'm inclined to agree with him."

"Well, I'm not!"

"Rodney's been under a lot of pressure recently and I thought it would be better if he took a step back from the front line and focused on his real work..."

"My team _is_ his real work." He grimaced as she raised her eyebrows. "Least it's a big part of it."

She leaned forward in her chair. "I disagree. Since Rodney started focusing more on Atlantis than off-world exploration, we've seen an increase in maintenance and an uplift in moral for members of the expedition."

"Anyone could have fixed the damn environment controls, Elizabeth. It just wasn't a priority. Finding a way to defeat the Wraith was...and still is!"

"And any one of these three doctors could help."

"Then put them on another team!"

"No. After the disaster on Doranda, Rodney knows that if he wants to stay on Atlantis in any capacity, let alone as Chief Scientist, then he has to--"

"In _any_ capacity?" John narrowed his eyes. "He doesn't want off the team. _You_ want him off the team."

Elizabeth straightened. "Rodney's request to stand down from off-world exploration was very concise."

"And you accepted it. No questions asked."

"Yes! Because the success of this mission lies in everyone focusing on their duty to the expedition rather than on personal gain."

John stared hard at her, wondering when she had decided to take Rodney's attitude that day so personally. Then he recalled her reaction when he refused to stand down and wait while a nanovirus was spreading through the city. It hadn't gone down too well then and if they had been in contact with Earth at the time of the incident then John doubted he would still be the head of the military. It had taken a good month before she truly forgave him but, eventually, she'd had little choice because Bates had already proved that he would carry out his commanding officer's orders above those of hers. For Rodney it was different for there was no military chain of command. Rodney was a civilian contractor hired by Elizabeth, and she could replace him with one of his subordinates without a second thought. So far she hadn't, or John would have heard about it before today, though he had a moment of doubt as he tried to recall the last time he had seen Rodney hovering, hoping it was since the _Daedalus_ returned to Earth. The thought that Rodney might already be half a galaxy away without John ever having a chance to talk to him took all the moisture from his mouth but Elizabeth's words had implied that Rodney was still on Atlantis, taking on menial tasks to win back her favor.

"When you gave that first mission speech, in the gate room back on Earth, you called these people the best and brightest." He waited for her begrudging confirmation. "Everything they do is for personal gain whether it's for new knowledge, for their own self-preservation, or for the praise from others. Even you." He swallowed angrily. "And Rodney is the best and the brightest of them all."

He watched her in silence for a moment or two, waiting but he saw no sign of understanding in her eyes.

"Is that really what you want from your Chief Scientist? A glorified light bulb changer and plumber? Following orders to the letter, never taking the risk for something bigger and better?" He grimaced. "Yeah, he failed badly that day, but the Ancients destroyed the entire planet ten thousand years ago, killing everyone; he destroyed an empty solar system...but if he'd succeeded..."

He let the words hang, let Elizabeth pick up the thought of what they could have done if Rodney had managed to complete the work left behind by the Ancients. He let her imagine that powerful gun protecting not just the city but every planet in both this galaxy and the Milky Way, and supplying them with unlimited power, no longer reliant on fossil fuels that damaged the ecosystem. With the weapon, they could have blasted every Wraith hive ship, cruiser and dart right out of the sky and Earth could have fought off the Goa'uld without resorting to using up the last few drones in its armory. He knew from the moment she looked away that he had reached her because this was what they did out here. They stretched themselves beyond the limits of known space, beyond the edge of their previous understandings of the universe and their supposed place in it. Here, they needed innovators, those with the vision to look further, willing to build on the amazing discoveries for the betterment of everyone.

"If you can convince him to rejoin your team then I won't stop him."

"Thank you."

John left swiftly, deciding to ask Zelenka where Rodney was hiding these days.

****

It was cold down here because they couldn't waste the power from the ZPM to heat every building and corridor in Atlantis, especially those lying beneath the surface at the bottom of the city. The massive star drive was here though, along with the inertial dampeners and sublight engines.

When they first arrived, the city's drive was useless because they couldn't produce enough power from the Naquadah generators, but they had a ZPM now, courtesy of SG-1 and brought to Atlantis on the Daedalus in time to save them from becoming Wraith snacks. Of course, the ZPM was far more depleted following the constant bombardment against the shield before he and Zelenka had come up with a means of turning the shield into a cloak, effectively hiding the city from Wraith sensors. However, there was still sufficient power to run a limited series of tests on the engine to ensure it would work after all these millennia. After all, that cloaking trick would only ever work once so if the Wraith should learn of their continued existence then the only escape outside of going through the Stargate and destroying the city, might be to fly away.

He shivered, wrapping his uniform jacket closer and wishing he'd taken the time to pick up one of the insulated jackets used for colder climes, or pulled on another layer of clothing, at least. He hadn't expected it to be quite this cold though, forgetting that the Ancients were good at building with materials that conserved heat even if they were not especially good at conserving power, but then they'd known how to manufacture the precious ZPMs that powered the city so that had never been much of an issue to them. Rodney had assigned linguists to comb through the Ancient database looking at all references to Potentia and other words related to it but it seemed that most every entry had to go and mention power consumption rates so it was like looking for an orange-colored needle in a haystack of needles the size of the Pegasus galaxy. Unless they caught a break then a way to manufacture their own ZPMs might never be found in his lifetime.

His thoughts returned to Arcturus. He thought they had caught that break when they discovered the weapon and its power source. If he could have found a way to harness the energy generated by the weapon then manufacturing ZPMs would have been unnecessary as they would have had a far superior power source. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his arms. To most of Atlantis, Arcturus was a complete disaster but the data collected over those few short days would fuel research into subspace and vacuum energy for decades. Every scientist learned by the errors in their calculations, accepting that there was no such thing as failure, only incomplete data. So, as a scientist, he had long ago accepted that sometimes he would gain unanticipated results, but he had truly thought he was right about Arcturus, convinced that his equations would work where those of the Ancients had failed.

He had been wrong. Spectacularly wrong. Death of a solar system wrong, and yet all of that was immaterial compared to the loss of John's friendship. At least Elizabeth had not demoted him so far, or told him he was being shipped back to Earth, though Rodney was not going to let that worry fade until the _Daedalus_ had been and gone a second time; she was due again in a little under a month, perhaps sooner.

He turned the next corner and there it was, the magnificent star drive lying quiescent at the very bottom of the city; a sleeping giant waiting for the command to awaken and carry them all away. Rodney wondered how many times it had been used since the initial trek from Earth. Had the Ancients come straight to this world, gently landing upon the calm sea and remaining on its surface until the Wraith forced them to sink the city and abandon Atlantis? Or had they journeyed to many worlds during their self-imposed exile from Earth? He could almost imagine them wandering between worlds, planting the seeds of new civilizations even as they built the system of Stargates to bring all those worlds together.

He shivered as the cold penetrated his jacket and thin t-shirt. It had only taken half an hour to walk here slowly so if he walked a little faster on the way back then he'd warm up quickly enough. For now, though, he wanted to take readings as the sensors in this part of the city were not working quite as well as they should. One of his self-appointed tasks was to repair those sensors so he moved to the main console and touched it lightly, thinking on, only to sigh when it remained dead. With a subtle press on one edge and a flick of his wrist, he opened the console and look inside, pulling out crystals one at a time until he found one that was smoky and cracked.

"Hmm! Wonder how that happened?"

The sound of his voice carried in the deep silence, not quite echoing but sounding hollow and alien to his ears, and he wished he'd insisted on one of his minions accompanying him down here rather than deciding he could do the job quicker alone. It was creepy down here and where the lights had not reacted to his presence, dark shadows had formed. Suddenly, he felt very much alone; too alone as his mind began to play tricks on him, paranoia growing as his imagination began to see dangerous shapes within the shadows. Terrifying new thoughts played with his mind as he wondered if they had truly captured all the Wraith that had beamed into the city.

What if one or more had evaded capture and was now hibernating in the deepest part of the city? What if it had sensed his presence and was stalking him even now, desperately hungry. He hadn't told anyone where he was going, just left a remark on his day planner covering his intention but no one had sought him out in weeks so would anyone check now? It could grab him from the shadows, feed until he was a dried husk and then hide his body in any number of places beneath the great city.

Would anyone even notice that he'd gone? Would they check over their shoulder a week from now, puzzling over when they had seen him last? He should never have come down here alone. He should have swallowed his pride and at least asked Major Lorne for a marine escort.

A noise startled him and he tried to make sense of the sound, trying to imagine what could have caused the snick of metal against metal. He pressed his back hard against the console, his hand halfway towards his radio, ready to scream for help when a soldier stepped out of the shadows. Rodney slumped in relief as Lorne stepped forward, hands gripping his P-90 and his lips a hard line of annoyance.

"I thought..."

"No, you didn't think, McKay. Without fully operational bio-sensors, we're just ninety-five percent positive we took out all the Wraith that beamed into the city."

"Teyla hasn't sensed..."

"No disrespect to Teyla but she didn't exactly pinpoint the last one until it was almost too late, and she can't tell at all if they're hibernating."

Rodney straightened, fear and relief giving way to annoyance and bitterness. "So you followed me down here?"

"Look, McKay, until the Colonel's back on his feet, I'm basically in command... and if Sheppard found out I'd let the Chief Scientist run around down here without an escort, he'd have my name placed top of the list of those being sent back to Earth." Lorne sighed, shaking his head as if he didn't want to believe the next words. "And I like it here." He cleared his throat and looked around the large empty room. "So, you just do what you need to do and then we'll head back."

Rodney nodded, unable to keep up an angry appearance when he was actually glad to see Lorne, and feeling slightly overwhelmed that the Major had actually noticed him slipping away to check on this part of the city. Following his inauspicious beginning with Lorne, they had come to a sort of begrudging acceptance of each other and Rodney had to admit that Lorne was one of the few who had not noticeably turned his back on him following Arcturus. Not that he had paid a whole lot of attention to the military, but a few had treated him less than deferentially since Sheppard withdrew his friendship. It was nothing major, just a little jostling in the food line and some shouldering aside by the patrols walking the corridors. Of course he had to add the attitude of the soldier ordering him out of his own laboratory to that list of offenses. He'd tested the curfew again the following night and though he'd made a little more noise against the soldier's actions, he'd realized he was powerless to do anything about it. Caldwell must have set the guard with Elizabeth's permission, so he'd resigned himself to sneaking work back to his spare laptop, accepting the unspoken curfew that amounted to nothing more than _house arrest_ between midnight and six.

He deserved it though, having lost the trust and respect of so many.

Turning back to the console, Rodney took a deep breath and pushed all thoughts of Lorne and his fellow soldiers out of his mind, focusing instead on replacing the damaged crystal. He froze when he heard another strange noise followed by the snick of Lorne taking the safety off the P-90.

"What is it?" he whispered harshly, rising to his feet, unable to stop his eyes from skittering around the room, trying to see into the dark shadows where the circle of light surrounding him and Lorne had not penetrated. He fell silent at Lorne's quick glare, not that he'd be giving away their position when they were in standing in the spotlight, quite literally, but because Lorne had cocked his head to one side, listening intently. Rodney wished he'd brought his sidearm with him but, knowing his appalling run of luck, he would have drawn and shot Lorne earlier if he'd had his gun on him. Still, he was tempted to ask Lorne for his sidearm, eyes widening in surprise when Lorne unclipped the gun and handed it back to him as if he had read Rodney's mind.

A minute passed with no further noises but Lorne did not relax, conveying that same tension to Rodney. Rodney held the gun at ready, two-handed and with the safety off, pointed towards the ground to keep his arms from tiring but ready to bring it up as soon as he had a target.

"What say you pack up and we get ready to get out of here," Lorne stated softly, his words barely carrying to where Rodney stood frozen only a few feet behind him, his back to the console.

"What say we," Rodney replied nervously, keeping his voice low.

He placed the gun on top of the console within easy reach and closed the access panel on the fixed console before quickly packing away his tools and stowing them in a pocket. Picking up the gun, he took a couple of steps and stopped just behind Lorne's left shoulder, swallowing hard as Lorne contacted his men, quietly informing them of his current position. Until then, Rodney had wondered if they were overreacting to the general creepiness of the poorly lit chamber and the ominous silence broken only by their breathing, and the rasp of material when they moved even fractionally.

He was surprised when Sheppard answered, and any thoughts of a brisk walk back to the closest transporter were quashed instantly as Lorne was ordered to hold his ground and wait for back up. Rodney thought about his slow half hour walk here earlier, wondering how long it would take reinforcements to arrive.

"Keep it together, McKay," Lorne whispered, and Rodney swallowed again, trying to control his heavy, shaky breathing as panic tore at the edges of his mind.

He started up a silent mantra as time stretched into infinity. Sheppard's coming. Sheppard's coming.

***

Technically he was still off duty but John had grabbed his radio on his way over to see Zelenka, automatically switching it to the security channel as a force of habit. He intercepted Lorne's call to Captain Farrow, cursing beneath his breath even as he ordered Lorne to stay put and wait for reinforcements. There was always the chance that this was Lorne and McKay jumping at shadows but John was taking no chances. He had learned that lesson in a derelict Wraith cargo ship out on the edge of the Lantean solar system. With no time to change, he raced to the closest armory and pulled a TAC vest over the top of his off duty clothes, clipping the P-90 to the vest and strapping a loaded holster around his beige-clad thigh. None of his men even blinked at the unusual attire, following him at a fast jog into the transporter.

He was not surprised when Teyla and Ronon joined them in the darkened hallway in the lowest level of the city, wondering if Teyla had sensed something or had merely heard the call go out on the military channel. He would ask later but, for now, his focus was solely on Lorne--and, more importantly to him--on Rodney.

With a life signs detector in his hand, John forced the pace as they headed along twilight darkened corridors towards the main star drive chamber, hoping the lack of two blips was simply them being out of range. Despite two weeks of enforced rest, he still felt strong and supple, as if his body recalled the genetic changes that had augmented his natural strength for a time even though he knew his body no longer held any foreign DNA. Only the blue scar served to remind him of what he had almost become.

Teyla's small hand gripping his arm pulled him to a halt, and he did not need to look down at the life sign detector to know what was there--a single blip closing in on two other blips. He could tell by the distant look in her dark eyes that it was a Wraith and her sudden urgency set them all running harder even as John warned Lorne of the direction of the approaching Wraith that was almost on top of them.

A distant burst of automatic weapon fire, and the sharp retort of a hand gun set his heart beating harder, threatening to burst in his chest as he began to outstrip the rest of his men, losing the race only to the swifter-footed Teyla. The gunfire stopped just as suddenly as it started and John had visions of Lorne swept aside, body slamming into a wall or console while the Wraith reached for Rodney, hungry slitted eyes fixing on terrified blue, hand pulled back ready to slam it against the unprotected chest, to tear the life from Rodney. He and Teyla burst into the large chamber and froze, his heart hammering erratically as Lorne's P-90 swung round to cover them, the Wraith lying dead between them. He spared the creature only the barest glance, seeking out Rodney and feeling the tightness ease in his chest when he saw him peering out from behind Lorne, face deathly pale and eyes wide, gun still clenched in his white-knuckled hands.

Part of him wanted to rage at both men for coming down here without a full escort, for being so stupid as to believe they were safe just because they were in Atlantis. Part of him wanted to grab Rodney and shake the man until he got it, until he realized that everything he did had consequences, and blowing up a solar system was pretty low on the important list compared to losing him. The rest of him wanted to say, _fuck regulations and stupid rules_ , and drag Rodney into his arms, holding him so tight his ribs would creak from the pressure. He settled for something in between, something unsatisfying until he could get the man alone.

"You okay?" John asked softly.

***

Am I okay? Rodney thought, and the wail of fear threatening to choke him as it stuck in his throat answered that pretty clearly. No, he wasn't okay and he had not been okay since... He swallowed down the lump of fear and emotional pain and nodded briskly, letting his deathly grip on Lorne's hand gun ease. The loud retort of Ronon's blaster made him jump, and he looked over to where the Satedan warrior stood above the Wraith, gun still pointed down at the creature that had attacked him and Lorne.

"Just making sure it's dead."

Sheppard nodded. "How about we get out of here now." It sounded like a request but Rodney knew it was Sheppard's lazy way of giving an order. His men knew it too as they straightened and regrouped, ready for the journey back to the surface of the city.

"No, no, no. Wait." Rodney couldn't believe he was going to say this but there might not be a better time. He watched as Sheppard narrowed his eyes, lips twitching at the countermand to his order. Licking his lips, Rodney pushed in front of Lorne before pointing back at the console, now fully aware of what had damaged the crystal, rendering the sensors almost inoperable in this sector of the city.

"The sensors. I repaired them so if we turn them on then..."

Sheppard understood immediately. "Then we'll know if there are any more Wraith hibernating down here."

"Yes."

Sheppard glanced at him askew, head tilted in that familiar thinking position as he weighed pros and cons. He started nodding slowly. "Do it."

It took only a few adjustments, and a call to Zelenka to get to the main control consoles in the tower, before they had their answer. Rodney's eyes widened as the control room screen was relayed to the one hanging above the star drive console, revealing two worrying presences tucked away in rooms deep beneath the city where no one but maintenance crew would go, if they'd had anyone to spare up until now. As they watched, one of the dull red blips brightened; Teyla confirmed that it was awakening. The timing was too much of a coincidence.

Rodney turned worried eyes to Sheppard. "It probably had a wake-up call attached to the sensors so..."

"So, if we turned them back on, it would know about it." Sheppard gave Rodney an annoyed glance as if he should have thought about that before turning them on, and maybe he should have, but he was still feeling shaken from the earlier attack.

"Point is, Sheppard," Ronon stated, "It's awake now and probably thinks it has time to do some damage before we get to it."

"Except we're already down here, and not half an hour away," Teyla finished.

"Ronon, Teyla, you're with me. Lorne, take out the other one before it knows what's going on."

Lorne and the other marines raced off quickly, their figures lost in the shadows within seconds.

"What about me?"

Sheppard stared at him and, for once, Rodney could not read the expression in his eyes. "I don't know, Rodney. You resigned from the team...unless you want back in?"

"I thought...I... You can't leave me here alone!" Rodney sighed. Sheppard was giving him a choice and he had to make it quickly. "I'm with you," he stated, deciding he could always deny rejoining the team if Elizabeth disagreed, though he began to wonder if he'd made the right decision when Ronon slapped him on the back hard enough to knock him forward several steps. The new warmth in Sheppard's eyes was all the confirmation he needed that he'd made the right choice, and it felt good to see something other than anger or coldness in the man's face. As he dropped back into his slot at the center of the team, he felt the first stirring of hope that he might be able to salvage something good from before the disaster with Arcturus.

They split up ahead of the Wraith with Sheppard telling Rodney to hide in an abandoned room furthest from the approaching Wraith as he had only a Lorne's reloaded hand gun; Ronon took up position in the room on the opposite side of the corridor but a few doors further along. Sheppard went even further up the corridor to hide, leaving Teyla walking along the shadowed corridor alone as willing bait. The plan was simple; after hibernating for so many months down here it would be hungry, so when it came for Teyla, believing she was alone, then it would be caught in a trap between the four of them. Rodney could feel the tension mounting, fear-sweat trickling down his back as Sheppard counted down the number of feet in whispers through the radio that seemed almost seductive in his ear.

"Twenty feet... Fifteen..."

"I do not see it," Teyla replied under her breath.

"It's there. Ten feet ahead of you, Teyla," he breathed harshly.

"I see nothing but I sense...so close."

"Teyla, it's right on top of you. Wait. It can't be. RODNEY!"

Without a life signs detector, Rodney could only freeze, spine tingling with fear on hearing Sheppard yell his name through the radio, heart racing as he breathed raggedly. The softest sound had him turning on his heel, facing into the dark shadows at the far end of the narrow room, gun raised and eyes widening, pupils dilating as he tried to see further into the darkness. His heart skipped a beat as the darkness moved, rippling all around him as the Wraith sent shadows to confuse him. He sensed the sudden movement and started shooting, bullets hitting something solid and living only a few feet away and closing fast.

"McKay!" Ronon called his name as the Wraith reached for him, tearing the gun from his hand but the pain came from an unexpected direction, flaring along his back and driving him to his knees and then to the floor, his body writhing as blackness overtook him.

He blinked slowly, eyelids feeling too heavy. It was a different sort of tingling numbness that sent pins and needles through his body this time, but Rodney recognized the effects of a stun weapon. He forced open his eyes to a feeling of deja vu as first the Infirmary ceiling came into view and then Carson leaned over him, a smile playing about the doctor's lips, blue eyes warm and friendly. He'd missed this. He'd missed the warmth of Carson's friendship over this past month though he knew that was mostly his own fault following his self-imposed exile, driving away anyone who might have cared about him because he couldn't bear the thought of seeing them turn their backs on him in disgust too. Better to pull away and at least keep an illusion of friendship. Carson must have seen something in his eyes, or remembered that Rodney was some kind of Pariah because he patted his shoulder awkwardly and then walked away, leaving Rodney all alone until he realized that someone else was close by.

The deja vu ended there for it was Ronon and not John who leaned against the wall watching him.

"Had to stun you."

"What?" He mumbled around the numbness in his body.

"You were between me and the Wraith."

"And you couldn't have yelled duck or down?"

"Next time."

"Next...? What do you mean next time? And what happened anyway?"

"Wraith wasn't in the corridor. It was in the ceiling. Dropped down from an air vent behind you."

"And now it's...?"

"Dead."

"Wait! Wait! Did it...?" He reached up in fear, suddenly finding another reason for the sadness in Carson's eyes. His fingers ran over his face, trying to recall if any lines were deeper than they had been the day before.

"It didn't touch you."

"Really?" He sagged in relief, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Thank you. Thank you." he whispered hoarsely.

"You're welcome."

Rodney snapped up his head. "What?"

"Said you're welcome."

"Welco... Oh! Yes...yes, thanks for...um," he waved at his face and body, and the fact that it was only a day older than the last time he had glanced in a mirror, rather than aged a hundred years.

Ronon nodded and left, and this time Rodney was all alone in the Infirmary with the dimmed lights and the empty beds. Alone again when he thought he might have seen an end to his exile. He could feel the sting of tears at the back of his eyes but, damn it, he was not going to cry. He had not cried when Gall put a bullet through his brains, or when the La Grange point satellite exploded, killing one of Rodney's few friends. He had not cried when Elizabeth told them John had only a few more hours before he was no longer human, or when everyone turned their back on him immediately after Arcturus. He would not cry now for all that he had thought he had regained when Sheppard looked at him with real concern before forcing him back on the team. He was a fool to think anything had changed just because he'd nearly gotten eaten by a Wraith twice in less than fifteen minutes.

Carson returned and smiled softly, placing Rodney's clothes at the end of the bed, and patting his leg.

"You can go when you're ready, Rodney."

"About time!" Rodney snarled and threw back the covers, dressing quickly and leaving without another word.

He knew he was being rude to Carson, especially as Carson was not one of those deliberately snubbing him. He understood on a basic level that Carson had his own reasons for keeping his distance over the past few weeks, most of it coming down to a heavy dose of guilt over the retrovirus and almost losing Sheppard. Between them they were a right pair but Carson had enough concerns without having the stigma of being Rodney's friend attached to him too. It had not been a good month for any of the science disciplines, if he could even call medicine a science.

His feet took him out of the Infirmary and towards the Mess Hall with the subconscious desire to comfort himself with food. The main dinner rush was almost over by the time he reached there but the line was still long enough to fill him with despair, and he could see no free tables. He hung on though, shuffling forward with the rest of them. A soldier stepped back, crunching down on his toes.

"Hey! Watch what you're stepping, you big..."

"You got a problem?" The soldier had turned and leaned right into Rodney's personal space, nose a scant inch from the tip of his own, and lips twisted into a smirk and snarl combined purely to intimidate.

"No. No problem."

Raising his hands in a placating gesture, Rodney backed up a few steps, bumping into the person behind him, who retorted in indignation; the soldier turned away and Rodney felt the heat of embarrassment burning his cheeks as two other soldiers with him snorted in derision, aimed solely at him. If he hadn't been so hungry, he would have walked away and come back much later when the room had emptied of most of the diners. He hated being here when it was busy, feeling even more desperately alone when sitting on his own in the crowded room. He'd become used to arriving here very early for breakfast, grabbing sandwiches for lunch, and waiting until after nine when most had left to enjoy their evenings but not today though.

He pulled himself up straight and shuffled forward again as the line moved, loading up his tray quickly, but not subdued enough to forgo his normal interrogation of the servers to make certain the cooks hadn't doused everything in lemon juice. Not that he expected someone to try to kill him deliberately but it only took a moment of distraction. He reached for what looked like plain cheesecake.

"Sorry, Dr. McKay, but you can't have that. It's lemon cheesecake."

Rodney sighed in disappointment and picked up the only other dessert option left, which was a sorry looking piece of pseudo-coffee cake. Checking around the Mess Hall, he spotted Sheppard with Ronon, Teyla and a free chair, but no other empty tables. He couldn't help staring at them wistfully, recalling a time when he would have been welcome to join Sheppard. He missed the man's company, missed the inane conversation that usually ended up in a debate over which version of Batman was the best, or whether the jumpers could be used as submersibles. He missed the excuse to look at Sheppard while insulting his hair or the way his eyebrows wiggled, or impugning his intelligence, his flirtatious manner. He missed Sheppard's smirk, his grin, his smile and the thousand other twitches and quirks of his lips that meant something slightly different, dreaming of the day when he'd have the courage to lean in and touch those lips, pressing soft, nibbling kisses and tasting John with the sweep of his tongue.

Shaking his head in annoyance at his own maudlin thoughts of what he would never have again, he turned away, deciding to take his laden tray back to his quarters rather than hang around waiting for a table. He'd made it ten feet down the corridor when two more of Sheppard's marines turned the far corner, heading towards him. Rodney groaned softly, recognizing the pair as the ones who tended to guard the science section to ensure he obeyed the curfew imposed upon him by Elizabeth. Both were a little too enthusiastic in their duty on the one time he had decided to break the curfew when he realized he had left some important notes back in the laboratory. His arm began to throb in memory of the tight grip as he was forcibly removed, almost losing his balance when they shoved him hard against the corridor wall and formed a human wall to prevent him from trying to get back into the lab. They were new off the _Daedalus_ , having never seen the Wraith or survived a siege, strutting around as if the military owned Atlantis and the scientists were but necessary nuisances.

Sure enough, the leader of the two began to smirk as they approached Rodney and, not wanting any trouble, Rodney back up against the wall to let them pass. It could have been an accident but Rodney doubted it. All he knew was that, one moment he was carrying a fully laden tray and the next it was upside down on the floor with half the contents splattered across his chest.

"What the hell is going on here!" A voice rose exponentially, ending with a roar.

Rodney froze at the sudden snap of command, recognizing the voice but not the tone. He turned his head and saw Sheppard standing a little way along the corridor, the two soldiers standing rigid to attention before their superior officer.

"You!" Sheppard indicated towards the one who had sent Rodney's tray flying, "Will clean up this mess and you," he indicated to the other, "Will go back into the Mess Hall and get a fresh tray laden with everything McKay had on the last one." His eyes narrowed menacingly, voice lowering rather than becoming even louder, and somehow that made it more frightening. "NOW!"

"Yes, Sir!" Both answered, rushing back to survey the mess before one ran back towards the Mess Hall.

"Rodney?"

Rodney looked up from the soldier cleaning at his feet as the soft voice penetrated the cloud of misery and confusion hanging over him, blinking rapidly as he took in the familiar form of John Sheppard. Sheppard's head was tilted slightly, eyes narrowed in concern; Rodney cleared his throat and straightened.

"I'm...fine. It was just an accident."

"Yeah. Sure." His eyes narrowed more. "Busy? 'Cause I was kind of hoping you'd join the team for dinner."

"You was? I mean...Um...I am but I'm sure I can make room in my busy schedule for..."

"Good!" Sheppard smiled warmly and gripped Rodney lightly around one arm, drawing him back towards the Mess Hall where they met Corporal Meier rushing back with a laden tray. "I'll take that, Corporal...and I want you and Zimmerman to report to me, in my office, at 0-900 hours tomorrow."

The color drained from the soldier's face. "Yes, Sir!"

Teyla looked concerned when Rodney sat down, her eyes drifting down to his soiled t-shirt. "Rodney?"

He brushed it off with the wave of his hand. "Just a couple of careless grunts not looking where they were going."

He tried to make his voice sound that mixture of casual yet irritated, feeling relieved that he must have succeeded when Teyla merely raised an eyebrow and said nothing more. By the time he left the table two hours later, Rodney had almost forgotten what it had been like to eat all alone for the past month.

***

John stepped into the main science lab and spied his target immediately, sauntering across until he was standing directly behind Zelenka. He knew from the tension in the smaller man's shoulders that Zelenka knew he was there.

"A word, doctor."

Zelenka sagged and nodded, turning to face John, and John was surprised by the tiredness in his face, dulled blue eyes underlined with dark crescents, and hair uncombed, reminding him of those days during the siege.

"You okay?"

"Yes, yes." He waved a hand in a gesture so similar to Rodney that John wondered if Rodneyism should become a new word in their dictionary. However, it was plain to see that all was not fine with Zelenka. John indicated towards the private office attached to the lab that was rarely used except for private or personal discussions. He let Zelenka go in first and then closed the door behind them, aware that the room was soundproofed.

"What's going on?"

"I do not know what..."

"Cut the crap, Zelenka."

Zelenka sighed and rubbed a hand over his tired face. "I did not wish to do this."

"Do what?"

Zelenka didn't seem to hear his question. "I cannot be his friend. I cannot discuss science, or the weather, or my sister like a respected colleague and friend and then betray him every night. He knows, and even if he did not, I cannot look into his eyes and do this. And yet, if I do not do this then another would, and that person would not understand what they saw. They would destroy or argue or maybe they would steal."

"Do what, Radek?"

Use of his first name broke through the rambling and Zelenka blinked owlishly through the magnified lenses of his glasses. "Reporting back on his work to ensure he has left Arcturus behind and is not trying to revive the project."

"On whose orders?" John asked softly.

"Dr. Weir's."

Fifteen minutes later, John walked away feeling more annoyed than he had in years. Radek had been looking through Rodney's main laptop for over two weeks before he was caught by Rodney's unexpected decision not to remain in the infirmary after John returned from the Iratus nest with the embryos. Rodney had left before Radek could explain why it was him and not some other scientist, and how he was doing it to protect Rodney and his work rather than to censure him. He learned about the curfew enforced solely on Rodney, implemented to ensure Rodney did not work too hard trying to salvage something from Collins' death.

All for Rodney's own good.

John wondered how Elizabeth could believe she knew Rodney so well and then do this to him. Part of what John loved about Rodney, and yes he could admit that it was love, was the way Rodney worked as if he had wings, soaring to impossible heights, eyes wide open to possibilities and the marvels of the universe. He missed the infectious grin of discovery, the boyish delight when something unfolded beneath the power of Rodney's incredible mind, revealing its secrets.

Elizabeth had not clipped his wings. Instead she had tethered Rodney to the ground; not enough to stop him flying but sufficient to keep his mind from soaring free, dragging him back when he tried to go too far. Except, what was too far? What was too high? He thought she had understood after their previous conversation that holding Rodney back was denying his brilliance and his ability to snatch ideas from the air and fly with them. Worse, by making Zelenka part of the tether holding Rodney to the ground, she had clipped his wings, eroding the respect both deserved from the scientists working beneath them.

It wasn't only the scientists though. At least two of his men had taken advantage of Rodney's fall from grace, becoming little more than playground bullies when they thought no one was paying attention, or cared less. Of course, he had to take a share of the blame even though he had spent the past two weeks becoming human again. Once he had recovered sufficiently, he could have asked where Rodney was hiding but he'd been worried that the primeval instincts of the bug would still be stronger than his own, revealing how much he wanted Rodney as more than a colleague or friend. It seemed simpler to wait until Beckett gave him a clean bill of health, until he knew he was all-too human before he saw Rodney again. Plus none of this excused the weeks following Arcturus where he'd deliberately avoided Rodney while he figured out why he was so angry with the man.

In hindsight it must have seemed that he had lied to Rodney, promising that he could try to regain his trust and then giving him no opportunity, not even when they were on the planet hunting Ellia and the other Wraith. If the Pegasus galaxy had shown John one thing, it was not to waste time on pointless recriminations and regrets because every day was precious. Yet, somehow, he had failed to take heed of that lesson, leaving the most important person in his life to fend for himself alone.

Well, not anymore.

It was time Elizabeth let go of her own fears, time to remind everyone that Rodney had earned their trust and respect a dozen times over, and time to tell Rodney exactly how he felt about him.

***

He was back down in the star drive chamber, working on maintenance repairs in case Atlantis ever needed to fire up those engines to escape a fate worse than simple annihilation. It was still as cold and dark as he recalled from before, except this time Rodney had several marines staring at his back and sending hand signals to one another, some of which looked too familiar and rude, with smirks aimed in his direction. He also had two assistants from the engineering department causing him the headache to end all headaches due to their total incompetence. Who had employed these imbeciles anyway?

"No, no, no! Not that one. Where did you learn engineering? Off the back of a cereal box?" He gave Zoingo...Zambo...whatever, a shove aside and reached into the open console and pulled out two crystals. He felt like he was teaching in a school for the mentally impaired. "This is a good crystal, and this is a bad crystal." He held them up in the meager light to show the cloudiness and fracture in one and the purity of the other, voice dripping with condescension. "Good crystal. Bad crystal. Got it?"

"Yes, _Doctor_ McKay." The man stated through gritted teeth and Rodney wanted to throw his hands up in despair because Zingo started to replace the damaged crystal.

"What are you...? Give me that!"

He snatched it back and threw it in anger, ignoring the outrage of the marine who had to duck to avoid it hitting him. The grunt deserved it anyway for that last gesture that Rodney knew meant _asshole_. If it wasn't for the Wraith threat which, to be truthful, really wasn't so much of a threat anymore now they had cleared the nest, so to speak, Rodney would have preferred to be here alone, losing himself in the depths of Ancient machinery so he didn't have to think of anything else. That anything else being John Sheppard.

He thought they had started to put Arcturus behind them after the impromptu invitation to join him at the team's table but Sheppard had kept that tight-lipped, disapproving look going throughout the rest of the meal despite Rodney's best efforts to draw him out. Admittedly, he might have talked a lot, though he couldn't recall exactly what he had said at the time, but he always did talk when he was nervous, and the lack of response from Sheppard had made him, well, anxious. If only he knew what it would take to make amends for betraying the man's trust and almost getting him killed but only Sheppard knew the answer to that question and, two days later, he was still not talking.

Rodney slammed his hand down on the console, making Zambug jump. This was exactly why he needed to be alone, so he didn't allow his thoughts to stray to problems in his personal life. He had to let go of this stupid crush on Sheppard. He had to let go of this futile attempt to regain Sheppard's trust and friendship too before he really did do something stupid like admit how much the loss of Sheppard's friendship meant to him. He wanted to blame Sheppard for raising his hopes because he had naively believed that everything would be fine once they actually sat at the same table together, that the repartee would come back and they'd fall into discussion over the dodgy science of some movie or show. He hadn't anticipated the silence and angry looks broken only by occasional answers to questions Teyla or Ronon posed, and no amount of delusion was going to change them into smoldering looks of unrequited passion.

Don't think about that! It was too late though as images of hazel-green eyes staring into his intently came unbidden, recalling the way the pupils dilated whenever Sheppard got excited over some cool piece of Ancient technology--usually a ship or a super weapon. They had darkened while they shared that meal but Rodney knew it had to be out of anger rather than desire.

He sighed as he replaced the good crystal. Part of him was beginning to wish Sheppard had not extended the invitation at all because then, at least, he would still have his hopes of a reconciliation. Now, all he had was visions of Sheppard merely tolerating his presence until the end of time, or until Elizabeth finally came to a decision regarding his future on Atlantis. Oh yes, he still had that hanging over him because Zelenka's checks on his laptop still occurred daily no matter how miserable it made both of them feel. He could barely look at Zelenka these days without wanting to rage against the injustice, but doing so would force Elizabeth's hand sooner rather than later. He just needed a little more time to prove he could be trusted in a professional capacity, and at least Zelenka was more intelligent than the rest of the trained monkeys he had working for him. At least he could trust Zelenka to know the difference between an abstract idea and a working theory.

His eyes caught a flicker of movement in the dark shadows.

"Did you see that?" He glanced at one of the marines nervously, wishing Sheppard had led the military escort despite the current state of their friendship. No matter what had come between them on a personal level, he still trusted Sheppard to watch his back.

"There's nothing there, McKay."

"Are you sure? Have you even looked at the life signs detector since we got down here?" Rodney stalked over and grabbed the small hand held device, bringing up screens that monitored different bands of energy. There was nothing. "Humph!"

The marine snatched it back and glared at Rodney until he was forced to turn away. Rodney rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, aware that he was not gaining enough sleep despite the curfew that had him kicked out of the labs after midnight. Sleeping brought nothing but nightmares and impossible dreams, and Rodney wasn't certain which was worse, watching the Wraith suck the life out of every person he had ever cared about, or writhing in passion beneath Sheppard's warm, muscled body only to wake up with his belly splattered in come, feeling cold and very much alone.

"Okay. Let's call it quits before one of you morons fires up the drive by mistake."

He could hear the two engineers whispering angrily all the way back along the darkened corridors towards the closest transporter, the occasional _McKay_ giving credence to his paranoia that they were discussing him. He didn't care what they thought of him though. He'd already managed to drive away the only people whose opinion really mattered to him.

***

John smacked the wall of his shower in anger as the desperation in Rodney's eyes returned to haunt him, overshadowing a far different emotion that had fueled John's lust for months. He missed seeing blue eyes sparkling with excitement, watching them darken as quicksilver thoughts turned inwards to consider all the possibilities of some amazing new discovery. Instead, he remembered Rodney babbling on the other side of the table, unintentionally revealing the anguish he had been put through by others since he allowed his arrogance to get the better of him on Doranda.

After talking with Zelenka, John had been determined to speak with Elizabeth next but Teyla had caught up with him, persuading him that a diplomatic approach would be more beneficial. Well, two days had passed and nothing seemed to have come of Teyla's promise to approach Elizabeth as one leader to another, and John hated not knowing what the hell was going on.

Maybe today he'd get some news but, for now, his erection had wilted the moment he recalled Rodney's desperate need for human contact after being left out in the cold following Arcturus, and John knew he was very much to blame for that. He'd been taught to lead by example, and his treatment of Rodney had sent the wrong message to his command. Those who had respected Rodney's abilities in the past continued to tolerate him now, but those who had never seen Rodney trying to move heaven and earth to save them all knew only contempt for him. Perhaps if Rodney had not been so caught up in guilt and feelings of isolation due to Elizabeth's treatment of him, then he would have dealt with the bullies the way he had in the past, by making certain they knew who was providing them with hot water and heating.

He leaned his forehead against the warm tiles and thought _off_ at the shower.

He needed to talk to Rodney but had kept his distance until he knew the outcome of Teyla's talk with Elizabeth. He wanted to tell Rodney he was sorry for putting him through so much misery over these past weeks, not that Rodney didn't deserve to be ostracized by him after nearly getting him killed, but he had never deserved the poor treatment from the others. John grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his middle before stepping out into his room, quickly checking the time and wondering if Rodney would be in the control room for the weekly contact with Earth or whether he had delegated that task to Zelenka again.

Once dressed, John headed for the gate room, disappointed when Rodney was nowhere in sight and his usual seat taken up by Zelenka.

"Where's McKay?"

Zelenka glanced up. "He is on his way back from stardrive chamber."

"He is, is he?"

"I believe he was escorted by many marines and two engineers."

John tapped his radio, annoyed that Rodney had not come to him to request an escort. "Major? How's the escort duty going?"

"McKay and the others returned fifteen minutes ago. All safe and sound, sir."

"Okay...but next time, keep me in the loop."

He signed off quickly, barely acknowledging Lorne's bemused affirmative as he recalled the last time Rodney disappeared into the depths of the city without him, and almost ended up a Wraith snack. He paid only half his attention to the opening wormhole and Elizabeth's short greeting to General Landry, too wrapped up in the problem that was Rodney McKay. When the wormhole closed, he turned to Elizabeth but she held up a hand to forestall any request.

"Dr. Zelenka, may I have a word please?"

"Yes, of course."

John sighed as Zelenka followed Elizabeth into her office. He considered waiting until she was through with whatever she had to say to Rodney's deputy but a call from Lorne pulled him back to duty. With the _Daedalus_ due to arrive a few days earlier, after a fast turnaround on Earth, he had a lot of boring but necessary paperwork to complete. Although he hated to admit it, his talk with Rodney would have to wait a little longer.

***

Rodney stepped into Elizabeth's office with a sense of foreboding, wondering if this was it. The weekly data burst from the SGC had come in thirty minutes earlier and though he had the decryption code, he had not had time to check through the contents on this occasion. As the _Daedalus_ was due to arrive in Atlantis in two weeks, the timing was too much of a coincidence.

Taking the seat before her desk, he studied Elizabeth's face but had to admit that he was pretty useless at determining someone's feelings from a visual check, or even from their words, never understanding if they truly meant what they were saying until it was too late and the damage was done. He guessed he could have blamed his upbringing for that, skipping grades had put him with older kids who hated being bested by someone younger and weaker than themselves, but Jeanie had turned out pretty normal considering she had gone through the same three-ring circus that his parents had laughingly called an education system. In the end, he could only blame himself for his inability to understand people.

Elizabeth looked embarrassed, barely able to meet his eyes and that sent all kinds of scenarios flashing through his head, and none of them were pleasant. All of them led to him stepping down from his current position with a ninety-six percent probability that he would be leaving Atlantis as well. He had considered stepping down weeks ago, wanting to salvage at least the opportunity of staying in the city but, like a fool, he had let matters slide when Elizabeth made no attempt to broach the subject. Perhaps if he spoke up now, quickly, before she had a chance to tell him to start packing his few possessions, then he might be able to convince her to let him stay. He opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted smoothly, holding up a hand to stay his words.

"I just wanted to say...I'm sorry."

Rodney felt something curl up and die inside him but, unlike with his exile to Russia, there was no heat of anger and disbelief to warm the icy dagger that stabbed into his heart. All that was left for him was to gather what little dignity he could muster.

"I understand and..." He cleared his throat. "...For what it's worth, I'm sorry too." He stood up abruptly, "I'll have everything set up for a smooth handover by the time the _Daedalus_ arrives."

He walked away quickly, hearing her call his name but wanting to put some distance between them before he broke down like a baby and had a wailing fit that would make even his words from Arcturus look reasonable and adult. Inside, he wanted to kick and scream, to tell her it wasn't fair, that he'd worked so hard to put Arcturus behind him and make something good come of it. Inside, he wanted to beg her to let him stay but, just with Russia, he had little say in the matter. He would go where they told him to go, and do what they told him to do, and it hurt that it would not be here in Atlantis.

"Rodney!"

She was chasing him down the corridor, giving him no choice but to stop and wait for her to catch up, with his head bowed and fists clenched. Her hand grasped his arm but he refused to turn and face her, afraid that the tattered remnants of his emotions would tear completely, revealing all the pain he had felt since the day he betrayed the trust of his friends and colleagues. Even Sheppard had turned and walked away from him the moment he spotted Rodney coming towards him. It didn't matter that he had caught up with Sheppard before he stepped into the transporter because every word that followed was simple appeasement to make Rodney go away. Sheppard might have made it seem like he was giving Rodney a chance to make it up to him but, in truth, he had made no promises that he would accept any of Rodney's attempts to regain his trust, and anything Rodney thought he had seen since then was just wishful thinking.

"Rodney, I think you should listen to what I have to say before you jump to conclusions," she stated softly and sighed. "Though I do understand why you should think the worst of me." She drew in a breath. "I don't want you to leave Atlantis...and I don't want you to step down as my Chief of Science."

He blinked rapidly, trying to parse her words but failing miserably because they did not fit with his expectations. He chanced a glance towards her and saw the pain in her eyes.

"Please come back to my office. We need to talk."

He allowed her to lead him back, unable to find the fire in his heart to rant and rage against the pain inflicted on him since his terrible mistake on Doranda, much of which was of his own making. The door closed behind them but, this time, Elizabeth did not hide behind her desk, drawing up a second chair to sit facing him, knees almost touching his.

"Rodney, I..." She sighed again. "I never meant to hurt you. You are my chief scientist and my friend, and I had no right to prevent you from working, or for ordering Dr. Zelenka to spy on you. Dr. Zelenka tried to explain why I was wrong but I let personal feelings override common sense and, in doing so, I committed a grave injustice towards both of you. For that I am sorry, both as a friend and as the leader of this expedition."

When Rodney left her office ten minutes later he was still confused but his steps felt lighter than they had in weeks. All the worry that had consumed him since Arcturus had started to fade as the last of his fears of being sent back to Earth in disgrace vanished. Yes, he had managed to single-handedly destroy five sixths of a solar system and he would have to bear the stigma of that error of judgment for the rest of his life but that didn't make him any less brilliant. He was still the best chance the Pegasus galaxy had for finding a way to defeat the Wraith no matter what concoctions and voodoo chants Carson came up with, for someone had to figure out a way to deliver those so-called medical marvels to their enemy.

The only shadow still hanging over him was caused by Sheppard, and even that did not seem quite so dark now that he would have a little more time to prove to him that, even if Sheppard could never fully trust him again, he might be able to regain a little of his respect.

***

When the _Daedalus_ docked on the east pier two weeks later, Rodney no longer feared its arrival. Life seemed to have gone back to what passed for normal in Atlantis since his talk with Elizabeth. No one had stopped him from entering his laboratory late at night or thrown him out at midnight, and his relationship with Radek had settled back down into familiar and welcome territory; bickering and sharing insights just like before now that Radek no longer had to go through his laptop every night looking for examples of Rodney trying to kill himself in an attempt to assuage some of the guilt he felt over Collins' death.

He'd apologized to Teyla once more, and properly thanked Ronon by giving him one of the strangely ornate, knife-like implements that he and Radek had discovered in one of the rooms in the west tower some time ago. Of course, the behemoth's only response was, "Cool," a word no doubt picked up from Sheppard or one of his marines.

Even meals in the Mess Hall had become a pleasure again now he no longer felt so alone.

It had taken a few days to notice that certain marines had stopped their bullying tactics too, no longer shoving him aside or tripping him up if they came across him alone. If anything, most seemed to have rediscovered a modicum of respect for him, standing back when he passed by. Of course, Rodney was convinced they had merely seen the error of their ways once he had stopped letting them get away with pushing him around. The bullies had arrived with the last batch of soldiers off the _Daedalus_ so they'd not have the opportunity to see him at his best, when he was no longer preoccupied with fears of losing Atlantis.

Sheppard was the only person who still hung back though Rodney had spotted him watching him from a distance with something akin to speculation written across his face, as if he was trying to come to some decision regarding their former friendship. Several times, he looked as if he was about to say something but, each time, Rodney found a reason to delay any words, afraid that Sheppard had decided their friendship wasn't worth fixing. He knew it was stupid trying to put off the inevitable discussion, silently hoping something would turn up before then to make Sheppard reconsider.

That something turned out to be an ancient warship called the _Aurora_.

As he attached his tablet to one of the stasis pods, attempting to access the virtual environment, he forgot all about Arcturus and the weeks of misery that had followed that disaster. He even forgot that he and Sheppard were still hammering out a new professional relationship, let alone a personal one. Instead, with his focus taken up by the mathematics and calibrations required to ensure his brain didn't fry when he linked up to the neural network, he let his exasperation show.

"What's the matter, Colonel? Don't trust me?"

"No."

Rodney swallowed hard. Okay. So he deserved that reminder. "Fine."

What he didn't expect was for Teyla to point out the obvious flaw in his logic, that his brain was far more valuable on the outside of the virtual environment than Sheppard's. Still, if he had not been convinced that this would work then he never would have allowed anyone--let alone Sheppard--from taking the risk. He should have known, though, that nothing came easy in the Pegasus galaxy.

Hours, and one dead Wraith later, they were back on-board the _Daedalus_ , heading back to Atlantis through hyperspace. Behind them, the _Aurora_ was little more than stardust, taking with it two Wraith cruisers and any hope the Wraith had of getting hold of the schematics for an Ancient intergalactic hyperdrive.

All too soon, they were reporting back to Elizabeth and Rodney was not surprised when Sheppard pulled out a bottle of Champagne. He accepted his glass and raised it in a toast to the _Aurora_ and her crew, drinking quickly. So many times he had hoped to speak with the Ancients, regretting his jealousy over Chaya's interest in Sheppard and now regretting the lost opportunity here. Even though their physical bodies had deteriorated like the alternate universe Elizabeth, they would have survived for many more months inside their stasis pods. Rodney could have learned so much from them in that time. Instead, all he had taken away with him from the _Aurora_ was the certainty that Sheppard had not regained his trust in him.

Rodney let the last drops of Champagne fizz against his tongue and then placed the empty glass back on the table.

"Right. I suppose I should..." He indicated towards the door with a thumb, implying that he was planning to take what little he had scavenged from the _Aurora_ 's database back to the laboratory and let his minions loose on it. Perhaps they would find something the Wraith had missed when it tried to erase anything of importance. He headed out before anyone could stop him.

"Rodney! Wait up."

He slowed down reluctantly, waiting for Sheppard to catch up and fall in step beside him.

"So, you're heading to the labs?"

"Actually, no. I'm..." Rodney stopped and sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I'm...It's been a long day."

"Heard they had cake today," Sheppard stated matter-of-factly, but even Rodney--socially stunted though he was--could recognize an invitation when he heard it.

He blinked away some of the tiredness, feeling drained after the events on the _Aurora_ , his mind and body still jumpy over his near miss with the Wraith, and the high probability that he would have been nothing more than a dried husk if Sheppard had not awoken in his pod in time to save him. Yet, despite the almost debilitating fatigue that had crept over him once they were safely back on Atlantis, Rodney was not about to turn down any chance to be with Sheppard.

"Cake? Really?"

"Chocolate cake, actually."

Rodney smiled, almost tasting the rich, sweet cake and knowing it would be all the better for the company, for Sheppard's company. His smile dropped abruptly. "What if it's all gone?"

"Then we'll grab something else."

"Oh yes? And what if there isn't anything else because the vultures have already circled and picked the Mess Hall clean?"

"Then we'll just have coffee." His voice held an edge of exasperation. "Rodney, it doesn't matter. I just want..." His lips tightened, suddenly looking uneasy as he glanced away.

"Just want what?"

Sheppard fidgeted, pulling a series of funny faces that might have had Rodney ribbing him in the past. Finally, he froze, looking like the words were caught just behind his teeth, trying to drill their way through.

"You. I just want _you_ to..." He wrinkled his nose. "...Sit and have a coffee...with me."

Rodney felt a sudden queasiness as he realized Sheppard actually wanted his company, and his alone, something they had not done since before Arcturus.

"Oh...um...Yes. Lead on."

***

John took covert glances across the table top at Rodney, pretending that his interest was in the data collected from the _Aurora_ when, secretly, he was enraptured by the flying hands that twisted and dived, cutting through the air before circling lazily. He'd missed watching those hands and the mobile mouth that could spit out words faster than a P-90 could shoot bullets, all while eating cake--though that was not such a pretty sight. He'd missed the sarcasm and the wit, and the exaggerated eye rolls that sent an opponent into a fury. Hell, he'd missed this highly animated and excitable version of Rodney, full of his own superiority. The other Rodney, the one that had moped around Atlantis, hiding in dark corners, eating alone, and allowing others to push him around, was just a dark shadow of this Rodney, and not the man he knew and loved so well; John was more than pleased to see him back.

Of course, there were plenty who would disagree but they'd come around on the day Rodney used all of this fire and passion to save their collective asses once again. Those who couldn't accept and respect Rodney would find themselves taking up a free berth for the ride back to Earth on the _Daedalus_. Meier and Zimmerman already had their places booked because John wasn't going to tolerate any bullies under his command. Well, except for Rodney, who could be a mouthy bastard on occasion.

"Are you actually listening to me or just nodding at appropriate moments?"

"Hey! I was listening. You were talking about the specifications of the _Aurora_ 's hyperdrive and the modifications made for turning it into an intergalactic drive. Something the Wraith won't be getting their hands on too soon."

"Humph."

John chanced a smug grin and gained a scowl in response, but then Rodney ducked his head, his attention focused solely on the remainder of the cake on his plate.

"I've...missed this."

John grimaced slightly. He had the courage to face down Wraith and Genii but discussing his feelings left him floundering and scared. He wanted to tell Rodney how he felt about him, how he dreamed of holding him close, sharing everything, mind and body. The string of broken relationships in his past, including a failed marriage, was testament to his inability to give that final part of himself, to let go and hope his partner caught him when he fell. Unable to form the words, he reached out and patted Rodney's hand awkwardly, hand freezing on top of Rodney's when wide, blue eyes looked up sharply and stared straight into his, reading everything that John had tried to conceal for so long. A slow smile curled across Rodney's face, pleasure brightening his eyes.

"Don't Ask, Don't Tell. So show me instead."

The meaning behind the words was unmistakable, and John felt his gut churn as he deciphered the look on Rodney's face and knew, just knew, that there was more between them than a restored friendship, than brothers-in-arms. He wrapped his hand around Rodney's wrist, squeezing firmly as he nodded imperceptibly, eyes flicking towards the exit before he let go and stood up. No one had asked him for this before, always wanting the words he could not give but he could do this, he could show Rodney how he felt. He disposed of his tray and walked away, grateful that there were so few people in the Mess Hall at this time, with none of them paying him and Rodney any attention beyond simple acknowledgment of their existence. He could feel the warmth radiating from Rodney's body as he walked close, hands occasionally brushing as they headed into the transporter. Rodney was talking again, babbling really, about the city, about some childhood trauma but John let it wash over him, knowing it was Rodney's way of dealing with nervousness. Instead, he chewed on his lower lip and led Rodney into his quarters. Silence fell as the door shut behind them, closing them off from the outside world. It was just the two of them now, and John cursed his cowardice, forcing himself to turn and face an eerily silent Rodney.

Rodney looked terrified and yet defiant, chin raised a fraction, mouth a taut line and eyes wide and focused. He swallowed hard and waved a hand almost futilely before letting it drop back to his side; he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Show me, John."

Trust me, John heard, and he did trust Rodney, with his life and with his heart. Those words gave John all he needed, permission and command, no words necessary as he stepped forward, reaching out to frame Rodney's face in his hands before leaning in and kissing him sweetly, tenderly, savoring the feel of slightly dry lips softening into the kiss, deepening it as arms came up to stroke lightly over John's sides from rib to hip. A flicker of tongue and Rodney's lips were parting, allowing John to taste the sweetness within, of cake and coffee and something uniquely Rodney.

"Show me more," Rodney murmured against John's lips and John breathed a laugh into the kiss.

"Greedy bastard," he mumbled back but obliged, fingers tightening on Rodney's scalp, almost daring him to try to draw back, to try to escape the plundering of his mouth as John kissed him harder, deeper, licking and sucking and biting. He felt Rodney's warm hands slide beneath his t-shirt, fingers trailing over muscle and bone, igniting every nerve ending and sending delicious sensations flowing through his body. They were so close now, bodies pressed together from chest to thigh, the hard mass of Rodney's erection digging into the hollow between hip and groin, both of them making involuntary little thrusts, seeking completion.

Not like this, John thought, pulling back to stare at kiss-bruised lips before gazing into unfocused, desire-darkened eyes. Rodney looked confused.

"Why did you...?"

John silenced his words with a tiny biting kiss, hands gliding down broad shoulders, down the not so surprisingly lean body and over still slightly padded hip to reach the bottom of Rodney's t-shirt. The return journey gathered up the soft cotton, and by the time he reached armpits, Rodney had bought the clue bus and was eagerly dragging at John's t-shirt. Stripping was no choreographed movement as they stumbled and elbowed each other, tripping over pooled clothing and falling clumsily as they raced to get naked. Fortunately, the narrow bed softened their fall, and then it was simply the pure, blinding joy of flesh against flesh, feeling the heat of Rodney's body consume him in fiery passion as they kissed and thrust, the slickness of sweat and precome intensifying the pleasure as Rodney choked off a cry, body surging against his one more time before the heat of his climax flooded between them. As Rodney collapsed, John rolled his spent body beneath him, bracing himself on forearms and thrusting hard, once, twice more until that mind numbing sensation claimed him, bones melting as he buried his head against Rodney's sweaty neck, choking out obscenities until finally sprawling in a boneless heap over Rodney.

"Can you...?"

He felt Rodney pushing at him and obliged, using the last of his energy to roll to the side, jerking when he almost went too far and felt nothing but air rather than mattress beneath him. He dropped his head onto Rodney's shoulder and let his hand settle on the gentle swell of Rodney's belly, fingers gliding through the stickiness as if swirling paint across a canvas, mixing their semen. He brought a finger to his lips and tasted the heady mixture of semen and sweat, the sense memory sending him back through the years to another time and place, quickly forgotten as Rodney squirmed beneath him.

"You need a bigger bed."

John chuckled.

"No seriously, if I'm going to be spending any decent length of time lying in here then I need my creature comforts...and what's with the length of this bed? Were the Ancients dwarves or something?"

"Rodney."

"Or did you pick a child's bedroom? My feet are almost off the end."

John silenced Rodney with a kiss, waiting until Rodney's lips had stopped moving in 'talk' before pulling back, leaning over him on one elbow. "I'll requisition a new bed, okay?"

"Oh...okay."

John's thoughts sobered for a moment, because he had almost allowed this dream to slip away, allowing the past to cast shadows over any future they might share. The _stunned-but-totally-sated_ look was good on Rodney, eyes bright and hair mussed, skin a healthy pink flush with a sheen of sweat making it glow...and that soft, hazy smile, crooked mouth twisted almost shyly, lips swollen and bruised. As John smiled back at him, a radiant grin lit up Rodney's face, and the last shadows of Arcturus were consumed in the afterglow.

END

[](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/tarlanx/6659521/360533/360533_original.png)

Art created by the wonderfully talented VELOCITYGRASS - click for full size image 


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